


In the Grip

by clgfanfic



Category: Soldier of Fortune Inc.
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the team gets sick in the middle of a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Grip

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Compadres #16 and later in Watch Your Six #1 with Mary Fallon Zane.

**Silver Star Hotel, Hermosa Beach, CA**

**November 8, 1998**

**0810 Hours**

 

Matt Shepherd heard the familiar footfalls as his former CO, Xavier Trout, descending the stairs leading to the basement of the Silver Star Hotel.  Ignoring the man's unexpected arrival, Shepherd continued with his bicep curls, the exercise sending beads of sweat rolling down his face, chest and arms.

A file folder in hand, Trout picked his way over to join Shepherd, stepping around a workout bench, a hanging body bag and a free-weight stand.  He tugged open the buttons on the jacket of his charcoal gray suit as he greeted him without preamble, "Matt, I need your help."

Shepherd forced out five more curls, then set the heavy free-weights down on the floor.  He straightened and grabbed the towel that hung over the end of the workout bench, wiping his face as he replied, "You ever think about dropping by when there's nothing going on?  You know, just to say 'hi, how're doing, you wanna go get a beer?'"

Trout handed Shepherd the file.  "This is serious, Matt."

Shepherd draped the towel around his neck, then accepted the proffered file.  Flipping it open, he skimmed the details.  Looking up to meet Trout's anxious gaze, he said, "You had to know this was going to happen sooner or later.  The Colombian drug lords and the guerrillas are better armed than most third world armies—hell, better than most any army."

Trout offered a half-shrug, then stepped over and sat down on the padded bench.  "It _has_ happened before, but our people were able to get themselves out, or the Colombian government was able to extricate them."

Shepherd reached up, holding on to the ends of the towel.  "But not this time."

"No," Trout said sadly, "not this time."

"Do we know where our people are being held?"

Trout rested his hands on his thighs and sighed heavily.  "We do, and I'll get you all the latest information available in an hour or two when the keyhole satellite makes another pass, but this is more delicate than you might think."

"More delicate than members of our military getting caught engaged in an undeclared war in another country?"

Trout snorted.  "Hell, Matt, everyone knows that we're aiding the Colombian government with their, uh, drug problem, shall we say?  We're doing the same for a half-dozen other Latin American counties."

"So why do you need us?  Send in Delta Force or the SEALs, or the local operators our special ops people have trained, and get those hostages out of there.   It's what they'll expect us to do anyway."

"Like I said, it's not that simple," Trout replied, pushing to his feet and pacing.  "This time the son of the Colombian Defense Minister was along for the ride when the plane was shot down."

Matt cocked his head to the side and shrugged.  "So?  Seems to me that his father would want to get him back as fast as he can; that he'd play ball with us."

"The problem is this; we think the boy was the informant who let Acosta, one of the drug lords who has connections with the guerrillas – hell, they're calling the whole lot of them narco-guerrillas now – know when and where to expect the over-flight.  But Medera's father refuses to listen to reason.  He's blaming _our_ people for the leak.  As a result, the Minister's grounded any future flights or joint U.S.-Colombian military actions until his son's returned by whoever's holding him, and, I quote, the 'American traitor' is brought to justice.  In the meantime, it's business as usual for the drug lords.  We have three days, Matt.  Then there's a major shipment that's sure to get out of the country unless we can stop it."

"You're not asking me to stop that shipment, are you?"

"No," Trout said, coming to a stop and shoving his hands into his pant pockets.  "We need you to go in and get our people, the Colombian Rangers, _and_ Carlos Medera out of Acosta's hands.  But complete deniability is essential.  Our government cannot be caught going blatantly against the wishes of the Colombian government; that might damage an already tentative relationship beyond repair."

"That's not going to be easy," Matt cautioned.  "These guys have to know who they've got, and what it means to them.  They've just effectively shut down the opposition."

"As I said, we think Medera helped them bring the plane down.  They know all right; we're just waiting to hear what they want.  And they have to know that as long as they're holding Medera, our hands are effectively tied – in an official capacity.  And one thing's for sure; they're going to use this situation to move as much cocaine as they can out of the country."

Matt walked over to one of the two long tables, loaded with computers and other equipment, and grabbed a half-empty water bottle.  He sucked down several swallows, then asked, "What makes you think Medera's still being held with the others if he was in on it?"

"We have someone on the inside at the Ministry; if Medera had surfaced back home, we'd know about it.  At this point I don't give a damn about the kid.  I just want our men and the Colombian rangers freed.  So, what do you think?"

Matt thought a moment, then said, "I think we'd better get those people back as soon as possible."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Silver Star**

**8 November**

**2030 Hours**

 

That evening, Shepherd watched his team digest the briefing he'd just spent an hour presenting.  They looked thoughtful, but eager – just what he'd hoped for.  They were all good operators, all good people, and he trusted that they could get the job done.  But it wouldn't be easy.

C.J. Yates grinned, saying, "I agree it's something we have to do, Major, but it's going to be a bloody long walk through the jungle to reach them."

Matt's eyebrows rose and fell, his expression turning slightly teasing as he told the Brit, "But we're not going to walk, C.J."

"Jump?" Benny Ray Riddle asked, absently twirling a long bullet through his fingers.

"HAHO, HAHO, it's off to work we go," replied a voice from behind them.

The four team members turned.  Ex-Navy SEAL and current VA medic, Rico Valasquez grinned at back at them.  The handsome black-haired, brown-eyed man headed over to the table, saying, "A high altitude, high opening right jump.  Man, I thought those days were over for me."

"Rico's going to be joining us this time," Matt explained.  "Chance, you'll cover our exfil.  Trout promises me he can get you a chopper and a second pilot."

Jason "Chance" Walker, a handsome black man, nodded.  "Yes, sir."

Sitting down next to Benny Ray, Rico brought his hands up like a boxer when the sniper gave him a welcoming hard punch to the upper arm.  "Good ta see ya, amigo," the sniper greeted him.

"Okay, listen up, people," Matt said, pulling out an enlarged satellite photo from the pile scattered across the table top, and lying it in the center of the table.  He pointed.  "This is our HAHO target, Taua Lake.  We'll drop from thirty-two thousand feet – better make it off static lines, too, so our chutes will open automatically.  That'll keep us bunched up as much as possible."

"How long, Boss?" Benny Ray asked, the bullet still moving steadily through his fingers.

"It'll take us about seventy-five to eighty minutes to glide down.  When we land, we'll be about fifty miles from La Chorrera in the north and fifty miles from the Putumayo river in the south, which is the Colombian border with Peru.  The lake's also about three miles from Cacule, a small village that's… here," he said, pointing.  "Between the lake and the village is our objective, a compound where they're holding our three people, three Colombian Rangers, and the son of the Defense Minister.  You can't really see it here; it's been camouflaged so the satellites can't eavesdrop.

"Taua Lake is seven miles long and almost five miles wide, so we shouldn't miss it.  And it's also pretty shallow, probably no more than sixty feet at its deepest point.  We'll use the Motorolas on the way down to make sure we don't overshoot and end up in the trees.  If it looks like you might miss the lake, circle around and come down on target.  I don't want anyone getting hung up in the trees."  He looked at Margo.  "Think you're up for this?"

The pretty ex-CIA field agent glanced first to Benny Ray, then to Rico.  Benny Ray gave her a small nod, Rico a smile.  Turning back to Shepherd she said, "I think—"  Her voice caught and she cleared her throat and continued, "I can do that."

"Good," Matt replied.  He'd already asked the two men about Margo's progress on the more complicated HAHO and HALO jumps they'd been training her for, but he wanted to hear it from her, too – not that she ever lacked confidence.  However, she was realistic.  But if she said she could do it, she could.

"Okay," Shepherd added, handing out a handwritten list to each operator, "this is the extra gear you'll need to bring.  Get it together and get to bed.  We leave tomorrow at 0600 for Panama and we'll jump at 2100."

Margo accepted her list and briefly scanned it – nothing unexpected.  She coughed and shook her head, trying to ignore the scratch that tickled the back of her throat.

"You okay?" Benny Ray asked as he leaned in next to her, pressing his shoulder against hers.

She nodded, tucking a strand of her shoulder-length auburn hair behind her ear. "Yeah, just a little scratchy throat.  Probably payback for that volleyball game yesterday."

Benny Ray grinned, his blue eyes alight with mischief.  "We kicked butt, though."

She smiled and nodded.  "We did."

He gave her shoulder a gentle bump with his, then headed off to pack his gear.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**In the air over Peru**

**November 9**

**2100 Hours**

 

Matthew Shepherd disconnected the internal communications unit that patched him in to the airplane's system and watched while his team carefully inspected each others' rigging, gear, weapons and combat vests.  When they were done he checked them all again himself, then had Rico and Benny Ray look over his own latch-up.  When he was satisfied that they were all good to go, he checked his watch – about twelve minutes to the drop point.

He motioned the others to gather around, then spoke loudly so they could hear.  "Nothing new from Trout.  We go as planned.  Stay within fifty feet of each other on the drop, and don't forget to pull up when you reach the lake for an easy landing on the surface.  Remember, water can feel like a rock if you hit too hard."

"When do we start using our portable oxygen?" Margo asked, wondering if she was feeling sluggish as a result of the jetlag and hoping that the pure O2 might help wake her up.

Matt glanced at his watch again.  "Any minute now; as soon as the red jump light goes on.  That'll put us ten minutes from the jump point.  We have two hours of oxygen, which should be more than enough."

The red jump light blinked on.

"Okay, turn on your oxygen and let's have a radio check," Matt ordered into his lip mike.

"Ready, willing, and able," Rico stated.

"Roger that," Benny Ray replied.

"Tallyho," C.J. offered, grinning.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Margo finished, swallowing down a subtle wave of nausea.  _Nerves_ , she decided.  But she'd done this before, several times.  She shook her head.  It didn't matter.  All that mattered was getting through the jump and getting the hostages free.

Shepherd looked over at Chance, who was riding with them, but who would stay in the plane so he could go back and pick up a chopper for their exfiltration.  He gave the black man a thumbs-up.  "Don't be late!"

"I'll be there, Major," Chance replied.  "Good luck!"

The loadmaster stepped into the hold of the C-130 Hercules from the cabin and motioned to Shepherd.  "Sir, we're about seven minutes from the drop.  You better get hooked up and ready."

Two minutes later the five-member team was lined up, Margo and Benny Ray on one side of the big cargo hatch, C.J., Rico and Matt on the other, the Brit chattering away about a past jump that had ended in disaster until the sniper shut him up.  A few minutes later they heard and felt the whoosh of the cold night air as the nine-foot-long ramp dropped down from the top of the plane.  The jump light still glowed red.

Two minutes more and the light shifted from red to green.

Shepherd nodded.  "Go, go, go!" he barked into his lip mike and the five operatives ran forward.

Margo felt the familiar jolt of anxiety she always felt during a jump.  Then she took one last running step off the ramp, rushed out of the big hold and fell off the end of the ramp into the blackness of the South American night.  Icy cold air wrapped her in its biting grip as she forced herself into an arch, her arms and legs spread out so she wouldn't tumble.  Six seconds later she felt her drag chute pull free from her main chute, then her fall began to slow as the rectangular, steerable chute gradually deployed in the thin night air, sparing her a bone-jarring jerk.

She grabbed her straps and looked around until she spotted four bobbing glow-lights.  In her ear she heard Shepherd say, "Listen up people, use your compasses.  We're on a bearing of three-forty degrees.  Let's hit that lake dead center.  Radio check."

"Rico, here."

"Benny Ray."

"C.J."

"Margo," she managed, hoping her lip mike hadn't frozen up.  It was cold, colder than she'd expected, and her throat was hurting again, making each breath burn against the roof of her mouth.

She checked her altimeter – 30,100 feet to sea level.  A long ride down.  To take her mind off her throat, she mentally reviewed the briefing again.  Their objective was a small compound about a mile outside of Cacule.  The village and the surrounding countryside was controlled by a local drug lord, who was also a renegade from the Colombian Army – Colonel Alvaro "El Torro" Acosta.  The Colombian government had tried to apprehend Acosta, but it had quickly proved too expensive in money, lives and time.  Ever since, "The Bull" had been left alone in his jungle stronghold, free to produce his drugs and build up his army.  And it wasn't hard since Acosta ruled like a bandit lord over the local villagers and Indians, forcing them to work in his drug factories for the most minimal wages.  The compound they hoped to infiltrate was well defended, but not inaccessible, according to the reports Trout had passed along.

And now Acosta was holding three Americans and three Colombian military men hostage.  _He must be feeling confident that he's untouchable_ , she reasoned.  _Well, he's going to find out just how wrong he is_.

She checked her compass and realized that she'd drifted about fifteen degrees off course.  Reaching above her head, she grabbed her steering toggles and tugged down lightly on the left-hand control.  When she thought she was back on course, she checked the compass again.  _Bingo_.

An hour later, her arms were cramping from the constant grip she'd had to keep on the control toggles in order to stay on course.  Her back ached from the dead weight of her rucksack, dragging at her harness, but all that was erased from her awareness as Margo approached the clouds that rushed toward her like a vast, fuzzy cottonball floor.  It was uncannily beautiful.

The cloud deck flashed past the bottom of her boots, so thick that she expected to feel them dragging at her legs as she sank deeper, but there was nothing except a sudden close blackness that wiped away the stars and coated her visor with water droplets that streaked up and off as she continued to fall.

She checked her altitude again – just over three thousand feet left to go.

"Okay, people, time to go dark," Shepherd voice announced into her ear receiver.  She saw two glow sticks on either side of her blink out, the clouds making it impossible to see the remaining two.  She had just managed to disable her own chem-light, her fingers oddly clumsy, a moment before she punched through the bottom of the clouds.

"Damn, geometry _does_ work," she heard Rico comment.

The overall scene below was shrouded in darkness, but Margo knew that the gaping black void directly below them was water.  Lights from Acosta's compound, almost a mile away, danced dimly across the still surface at one edge.  Further north she could make out a few scattered lights that marked the town of Cacule.

She coughed and was surprised when a tearing sensation burned through her upper chest.  _Oh no_ , she thought.  _Not now_.  But there was no time to consider what might be wrong; the surface of the water was rushing past at startling speed.  She unsnapped her rucksack and the secondary equipment bundle that held some of C.J.‘s explosives, letting them fall to the end of their tether line where they dangled twelve feet beneath her feet.  The shock of the weight hitting the end of the tether rocked her violently, but she kept control and followed the steps she'd rehearsed more times than she could remember, turning the quick release box to the unlocked position, then pulled the safety pin and opened the safety covers on her Capewell releases.

Ten meters above the water she sucked in a deep breath that sent daggers through her lungs and pulled down hard on both steering toggles, curling down the upper rear edge of her canopy.  In response, the front of her chute folded up high and for a moment she hung motionless in the sky, caught in a tentative balance between a gentle landing and spilling too much air, too soon, which would plunge her into the lake – hard.

The moment passed.  Her forward speed arrested and she dropped toward the surface like a stone.  Her rucksack and equipment bundle struck the water first, the tether giving Margo a savage yank as the last of her forward inertia was stopped by the drag of the weight.  The lake surface rushed up at her, her feet kicking up spray before she even knew it.

At the last possible moment, Margo squeezed her left-hand Capewell release and pulled down.  The chute snapped free on that side, billowing up and spilling its remaining air.  She plunged into the water with enough velocity to rip her oxygen mask free.  Before she could begin searching for the mask, bitterly cold, black water sucked her down.

Margo's attention shifted and she fumbled with the right-side Capewell, finally releasing the chute entirely.  That done, she quickly hunted for some sign of her oxygen mask.  Nothing.  Her hands grappled with a pull-ring at her waist, inflating the rubber flotation jacket she wore over her combat harness.  As the jacket filled with air, her descent slowed, then stopped.  From the pressure on her sinuses and ears, she guessed she must be a good thirty or forty feet beneath the surface.  She searched frantically for her oxygen mask again as the floatation jacket began dragging her slowly toward the surface.  To speed her ascent, she kicked as hard as she could, holding her breath.

The climb seemed to last forever, slowed since she was heavily weighted down by her gear.  And just when she thought she wouldn't make it, she broke the surface and sucked in a deep breath.  That set off another round of coughing, each one sending tearing hot claws to rip through her chest.  When she could think again, she treaded water and listened.  A moment later she heard someone splutter and gasp for breath to her left.  She kicked, propelling herself as best she could inside the cumbersome life-preserver toward the sound.

She softly called out her password, "Shadow," then coughed again and groaned softly.

"Talon."

It was Benny Ray, but she couldn't see him.  Then he was beside her, asking, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, shivering.  "Just swallowed a little water, I guess."

Working quickly and quietly, she and Benny Ray strapped their floatation packs together, then gathered in their parachutes, bundling them with their reserve chutes and letting them sink.  Their oxygen bottles and masks followed, Margo finding her mask cracked and floating useless behind her.  That done, they freed their weapons, balancing them on top of their float-packs.

They drifted motionless for a short time, huddling together for warmth.  Margo coughed again, fiery claws raking through her tight chest and squeezing painfully.  "Damn," she hissed softly.

"What?" Benny Ray asked.

"Nothing," she assured him, "just cold."

He pulled her closer, offering her what extra body warmth he could share.

A few minutes later, Rico and Matt paddled up after giving their recognition signs.  C.J. appeared right behind them and the five operators started pushing their gear toward shore.  When their boots scraped against the lake bottom, they crawled the last few yards on their hands and knees, coming ashore on a narrow rocky edge.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**2250 Hours**

 

"Any hurts, sprains, rips or tears?" Shepherd asked when they were all well hidden in the trees.  No one replied, so he continued, "Okay, let's get down to business. Rico, you and I will do a recon on the compound.  We'll be back before daylight.  The rest of you find a hide hole and settle in.  Get some sleep.  We'll move out again as soon as it's dark tomorrow."

Benny Ray, Margo and C.J. nodded, moving to find comfortable spots that would also keep them hidden during the daylight hours.

"Rico, let's move."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**2330 Hours**

 

Using their night vision goggles, Shepherd and Rico found a gentle slope leading down from the saddle where they stood to a shallow valley below.  Another short ridge lay beyond the valley, giving way to rainforest.  In the valley, the trees had been cut down in irregular patches, cultivated crops taking their place and providing Chance and his backup pilot with a variety of potential landing zones.

They headed down, Shepherd checking his watch every ten minutes.  When they could see the lights of the compound they finally rested.

"Not sure if those are security lights, or if they're working the locals in 'round-the-clock shifts," Matt speculated aloud.

"I hope it's not a night shift," Rico replied.  "We'll have to find a way to chase those civilians out of there, or risk them catching us."

Matt nodded, frowning.  "Let's get closer."

Less than twenty minutes later they lay just outside of the eight-foot high wire fence that surrounded the compound.  Camouflage netting was erected tent-like over the entire complex, making it invisible to all but the most powerful satellites.  Earth-moving machines had flattened a good-sized chunk of the jungle, including half of a smallish hill.  Shepherd guessed that the compound was nearly a half-mile long and dotted with a series of wooden buildings, each with a corrugated metal roof.  Most of the structures they could see sported lights on at least one corner of the building, though most were not turned on.  Now all they had to do was find out which one held the prisoners.

"Up there, Major," Rico said softly, pointing.  "See that cut on the hill?  The fence isn't as high as the cut.  We could jump over that if the fence isn't electrified.  Just lift the edge of the netting and go."

"Good eyes," Matt grinned.  "And I don't see any sign that they've got it juiced."

"Any idea which building we want?"

"We'll just have to watch for a while," Shepherd replied.  "But my guess would be that smaller one toward the middle.  The one with the lights front and back."

As they lay in the shadows, watching the seemingly deserted stronghold, a jeep appeared from around the corner of a building not far from the well-lit one Matt had noticed and headed straight for it.  It stopped under one of the lights and the two men riding inside climbed out and entered the building.  Two different men exited the building, got in the jeep and drove off.

"Midnight change for the guards?" Rico suggested.

Shepherd nodded thoughtfully.  "Looks like."

A few minutes later, they watched as another jeep swung out from behind the building closest to their position and headed straight to the fence, where it turned and continued down along the wire as far as they could see.

When it was gone, Shepherd checked his watch.  "Better time this guy.  I'll bet that second jeep's on a regular schedule of rounds."

"Be good to know," Rico agreed.

"We'll have to get though our hole, rewire the fence, and get out of sight before the driver gets back."

"You know," Rico said, "given how thick this jungle is, we could probably move up here during the late afternoon, get here just after dark."

Matt nodded.  "I was thinking the same thing.  That'll give us a good ten hours of darkness to get the job done and beat-feet."

Almost exactly a half-hour later the jeep returned, its slow circuit around the fence completed.

"Twenty-six minutes should be enough time," Rico said.

Shepherd stared at the complex, trying to decide where the best place to breach the fence would be.  Then they heard a chopper.  It lifted up from the far side of the largest lit building, and rose through what must be a good-sized hole in the cammie netting, sweeping over the complex end-to-end, a brilliant spotlight tracing a twelve-foot-wide circle on the ground through the netting as it moved along a little faster than a walk.  That done, it swung off in the direction of the nearby village.

"That could be real trouble," Rico said.

"We might have to take it out if it's back when we hit the compound.  I just hope Acosta only has one.  Wish we knew how many troops he has inside the wire, too."

"Looks like we'll need that diversion," Rico said.

"C.J. should be able to handle that," Shepherd replied with a slight grin.  "He brought along a lot of 'big booms,' as he calls them.  We'll breach the fence at the same time."

Rico rolled over and stared at Shepherd.  "Major, I have an idea.  Why don't I go in now?  I could move around, find out where they're holding our people and the Colombians.  I could work around until it's almost daylight if I have to, then get out and wait for you."

Matt shook his head.  "Too dangerous.  If they catch you they'll know we're coming and be ready."

"Not a chance, Major.  I can hide in a damned refried bean can if I have to – been doing it all my life.  We can't shoot our way in and then try to find the right building. If I go in and find them, we're ahead of the game.  And if I don't find them, we're no worse off than we are right now.  But I can find them."

Shepherd sighed.  "It's a good idea, Rico, but I'm not sure I want to risk my medic."

"The biggest risk is not knowing where to go once we get inside.  As soon as they know we're here, they could put all their guns where the prisoners are and hold us off."

"Where do you plan to go in?"

"I'll jump over where I told you."

"How will you get out?" Matt asked, willing to go along, but wanting to know what the ex-SEAL had planned.

"I'll use one of the rain gullies under the fence.  See?" he asked, pointing.  "There's one right there.  Looks like it's about a foot deep already.  Quicker to jump over now, then dig out after I find the prisoners.  Is it a go, Major?"

Shepherd scowled into the darkness, but nodded.  "Yeah.  But take my MP-5 and four mags; the silenced rounds might help."

"I won't kill anyone unless I have to, but I might have to knock out a few."

"Right," Matt smiled.  "While you look for the hostages, I'll move up and dig out that gully with my K-Bar so you can slip under when you're ready.  I'll be in the light, so it'll take me a while."

"Done," Rico said, handing Shepherd his H&K G-11 automatic rifle, exchanging it for the MP-5 and the extra mags, then dabbed more cammie makeup on the exposed skin of his face, hands, nose, and ears.  That done, he tugged down his floppy hat and said, "I'll see you back here if I find the right building as fast as I'd like.  If not, I'll have to find someplace to watch from."

"Be careful," Shepherd cautioned as he watched Rico move into the darkness, heading toward the cut in the hill.  He waited a minute, then began working his way toward the small wash under the fence.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Lying in a natural depression, Margo stared up at the night sky, starless due to the clouds she'd HAHOed through earlier.  She shivered, but there was nothing more she could do to get warm.  To add to her discomfort, her muscles all ached, and she could feel a fever beginning to build, her breath feeling fiery as it passed over her lips.

She silently checked her watch: Two hours since Matt and Rico had left.  _Damn_ , she thought.  _Why the hell did I have to get sick now?_

She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, but the constant complaint from her muscles made that impossible.  Shifting slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, prompted a soft sigh of frustration.

Movement in the foliage caused her to freeze.  A moment later, Benny Ray's voice was whispering into her ear, "Coming in on your right."

She let her breath out and stifled the need to cough as Benny Ray eased silently down beside her.  "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Was gonna ask you the same thing," he replied his tone concerned.

She felt the blood rush to her face, staining her cheeks pink.  It galled her to have to admit the truth, but she did.  "I think I'm getting sick."

"Sick?"  Benny Ray's voice was soft.

"A cold, the flu maybe."

"You think?" the sniper pressed.

She hesitated a moment, then relented.  "Okay, I _am_ getting sick."

She felt him move, then his hand was resting lightly on her forehead.  He hissed softly.  "You've got a helluva fever."

"I know."

"What else?"

"My muscles are all sore, some congestion in my chest," she confessed, adding, "Sore throat, too.  I felt fine yesterday, just that scratchy throat, but I didn't know it was going to lead to this.  I didn't really notice anything really wrong until I jumped…  Damn it."

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed quietly.  "It happens.  You gonna be okay tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she said with as much conviction as she could muster.

"Try 'n' get some sleep," he told her, reaching out to quickly check her temperature again.

She heard a soft rustling sound, then he was tucking his jacket around her shoulders.  The warmth was a welcome relief, but she said, "Benny Ray, I can't—"

"Shh," he hushed her.  "I was gettin' hot anyway."

"Thank you," she said as he moved away.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Rico lay on the ground near the band of light that illuminated the fenceline.  There were no lookout towers that he could see, and no sentries in the immediate area. His eyes narrowed in anticipation.  He had a damned good chance of clearing the eight-foot fence without being seen.  He was about to make his move when he heard the chopper returning.  He scrambled back, blending into the tree shadows well out of the reach of the aerial spotlight, then waited for the old Huey to pass.

When it landed in the same place where it had lifted off from, Rico moved back to the edge of the fence.  The slope of the bisected hill put the spur of land he crouched on slightly higher than the wire.  He held the MP-5 to his chest with one hand, and lifted the netting with the other, then jumped.  He hit the ground and shoulder-rolled to take up most of the force, then lay perfectly still.  Nothing happened.

Taking care that anyone watching would not notice him by movement alone, he crawled slowly out of the glow cast by the lights at the fence.  After what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, Rico lay in the shadows between the lighted fence and the first row of buildings.  Coming up onto his knees, then his feet, Rico checked for anyone who might see him, and, finding none, bent over and darted toward the nearest building.

He reached the deep shadows next to the wall just before a jeep's headlights cut a path through the darkness.  It drove around the building and proceeded on to a smaller structure two down from the one he was aiming for.  Rico waited an extra thirty seconds after they parked, then moved again to get a closer look.

A single light glowed outside the small structure, and the men he saw were wearing plain olive fatigues.  He walked casually through a bloom of light to the building, then along the wall to a door.  He tried the handle.  It wasn't locked.  He pulled it open.  No alarm.  A moment later, he was inside with the door closed.

Rico took a penlight from his shirt pocket and used it to check the building.  No cells, no guards, just a collection of tables all covered with metal trays and bottles of chemicals.  Definitely not what they were after.  He headed back to the same door he'd come in, but before he reached it the knob turned and the door opened outward.  Someone spoke in normal tone and another voice answered before a man stepped through the door and closed it.

Rico was six feet from the intruder.  He lunged forward.  The man turned to see what was coming, but Rico slammed the heavy butt of the MP-5 against the man's head.  He went down with a grunt, lying unconscious on the floor.  Rico stopped, looking at the fallen man for a moment, then grinned.  _Yeah, he's big enough_.

Five minutes later, Rico stepped out of the building dressed in the soldier's uniform and cap.  The unconscious man was tied hand and foot, gagged, and stuffed into a closet in the building.  Nobody would find him until morning, if he even woke up by then.  And given the cobwebs in the closet, it might take even longer than that.

Rico moved easier now, checking six more unlocked buildings, none of them where the prisoners were being held.  Then he reached a one-story structure set somewhat apart from the rest.  It was the one Shepherd had noticed earlier, the one with the double lights front and back.  He walked up to one side and began checked the door like a security man.  The first one was locked, the second opened and he stepped inside.

One naked lightbulb in a corner of the building was enough to reveal that the interior was laid out with six individual barred cells, three on each side of the room.  In each cell sat or lay a single man, all of them wearing jungle fatigues.  They all looked like they'd been beaten several times, too.  Two of Acosta's men sat a table positioned under the light, playing cards.  Shielding his MP-5 from view, Rico turned casually and started back outside, saying in Spanish, "Carry on."

He opened the door and heard the chopper lifting off again.  Rico paused at the door as a brilliant beam from the chopper's spotlight washed over the building, then was gone.  He stepped outside and headed back the way he'd come, angling steadily toward the fence.

Another jeep rounded a corner, catching him in its headlights.  He slowed to let the rig pass, but it rolled up beside him and stopped.  The passenger in the jeep asked in Spanish, "Long night, huh?"

Rico growled that it was and waved them past. 

"You want to make it go faster?" the man persisted, holding out a thick joint.

"No!" Rico snapped.  "Leave me to my duty!"

The man behind the wheel shrugged at his companion, then drove on.  Rico heard one of them say something about "dedicated socialists."

He let out a breath and walked directly to where he'd left Shepherd.  As he got closer, he caught sight of a slight movement.  He stopped and concentrated on the small gully under the fence and found it considerable deeper.  He watched as a hand dug a knife into the dirt and slowly dragged it backward.  Shepherd was still there, working on the opening.

Rico jogged through the semi-darkness between the buildings and the lighted fence.  When he reached a spot near the major, he called out softly, "Major.  Rico.  Coming out."

He heard a soft grunt and the hand and knife disappeared.

The chopper swung back, and Shepherd rolled several times, moving away from the wire.  Rico dropped to the ground, rolled into a ball and lay perfectly still.  He held his breath, silently praying that the door gunner wouldn't spot him.  The chopper moved slowly along the fenceline, but didn't pause at the escape spot.  Then it was past.

Rico wanted to run, but he climbed to his feet and walked slowly to the lighted area, then checked to make sure no one was watching before he dropped to the ground and crawled as slowly as he could toward the fence and the enlarged escape hole.

It took him three minutes to cover fifteen feet.  The hole looked big enough.  _Head first_ , he decided, turning over onto his back.  He worked his head under the wire in the little gully, pushing with his heels.  The MP-5 caught on the bottom of the wire and he pulled it free.  He pressed forward again with his legs.  The wire snagged his ammo pouch, then released him.  A moment later he was under the wire and crawling slowly away from the light.

Twenty feet more he was back in the comforting darkness of the jungle.

"You work fast," Shepherd said just behind him.

"Damn, Major, you scared the shit out of me."

"Nice new uniform.  Keep it, we might need it later," Shepherd replied.  "You found the place?"

"Roger that.  It was just like you thought, the one with the twin lights.  Six of our guys are in there, all in uniform.  Two guards on duty.  No sign of the Medera kid."

"Hopefully Trout's insider will be able to help us with that.  Okay, let's get the hell out of Dodge."

Rico nodded.

They hiked back the same way they'd come.  As they walked. Rico filled Shepherd in on what had happened.

"Good work," Matt replied.  "I might just keep you on the squad."

Rico grinned and kept hiking.  "No, thanks, Major.  Once in a while, fine, but I'm happy being out of the line of fire."

"Come on," Shepherd said, "let's pick up the pace and get back to the others. I want to get a few hours sleep before we crash Acosta's party tomorrow."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Team Hideout**

**November 10**

**0330 Hours**

 

Rico jumped slightly when a hand reached out and lightly tapped his ankle.  He looked down, finding Benny Ray grinning up at him.  The man was invisible, hidden behind broad leaves, but he had pulled one down to reveal his grinning face.

Squatting down beside the sniper, Rico asked, "Something up?"

"Yeah," the sniper replied just loud enough for the medic to hear, "Margo's sick – flu or something.  Can you take a look?"

Rico's grin faded.  "Yeah, I'll look, but I don't have anything that'll help her."

Benny Ray sat up.  "Do whatever you can.  I've gotta talk to the major."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

With the added warmth from Benny Ray's jacket, Margo drifted off to sleep, not noticing when Rico looked her over.  In fact, she was unaware of anything at all until Matt gently shook her awake.  The fact that it was already daylight registered first, then the fact that she and the others might be in danger.

"What?" she asked, automatically reaching for her MP-5, her arms sluggish and her fingers clumsy.

"Easy," he said.  "Everything's fine.  How're you?"

She didn't answer immediately, waiting for the fog of sleep to fade, then mentally reviewing her condition.  Her muscles still ached all the way to the bone, maybe worse than before, and she was cold, but she could feel the sweat on her face.  Her chest was tight, painfully so, but at least she wasn't coughing.

"I've got something," she admitted, her voice scratchy and low.  "A cold, the flu, I don't know, but I feel like roadkill the morning after."

Matt's brown eyes narrowed with worry.  "Can you finish the mission?"

"I think so," she said.  Noting his dubious expression, she hastily added, "I don't think I can run through the jungle for miles, but I can walk and handle my weapon."

Shepherd nodded, knowing that Margo wouldn't intentionally lie to him.  All the same, he planned to keep a close eye on her and her condition.  "Okay," he said, offering her an encouraging smile, "let's head out, then.  We're going to move up closer to the compound now, then hit them as soon as it's good and dark."

Climbing unsteadily to her feet with his help, she promised, "I'll be ready."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Outside Acosta's Compound**

**1720 Hours**

 

They reached the staging spot close to the compound Shepherd had chosen by early evening.  Matt set a purposefully slow pace to allow Margo to build up some of her strength.  He noted that the walking seemed to have helped her, easing away some of the muscle aches as he'd hoped it would.  They found good hide holes and settled in to wait for darkness.

Hidden from any potential prying eyes, each of the team members pulled out an MRE and ate it, knowing that it might be a while before they could eat again.  Margo had to force hers down, but she did, then drained all of the water from one of the three canteens she carried.

Their meal finished, Shepherd eased from his spot and set up the SATCOM unit so he could contact Chance.  The black man reported that he had a chopper secured and was standing by.  Trout's back-up pilot was also there, waiting with him, so they'd have two choppers at the LZ – just in case anything went wrong.  Shepherd gave Chance the exact GPS coordinates for the primary LZ he'd chosen the night before, and two secondary ones, then signed off.  He folded up the antenna and packed up the unit, then returned to his hide to quietly discuss how they should enter the compound over the Motorola units.

"Okay," Shepherd said a half-hour later, summing up their decisions, "C.J., you'll set up diversionary charges at the west end of the compound.  Make it at least a quarter mile from our attack position.  Once that's done, you pull back to the primary LZ and provide cover fire if we come in with tangos on our tail."

"Roger that," the Brit replied, sounding downright happy about the prospect of blowing things up.  "It'll be just like the time—"

"C.J.," Shepherd interrupted.

"Sorry, sir," the Brit replied sheepishly.

"The rest of us will slip through the fence and get our people out," he concluded. "Margo, Benny Ray, you clear on which building we're targeting?"

"Roger that," Benny Ray replied.

"Yeah, I have it," Margo added, her voice tired.

Matt left them to quietly check their weapons and eased out of his position again, this time to talk to Rico.

"Tell me about Margo," he said softly when he reached the ex-SEAL.

Rico shook his head.  "There's not much I can tell you, Major," he admitted.  "She's got some kind of bug, but I can't tell you what kind.  I'm not really carrying anything that can help her either.  I had her take some antibiotics, in case it's bacterial—but I'm thinking it looked more like a virus — and told her to keep drinking water.  I gave her one of my canteens.  Best I can do."

"Think she'll be up for this?"

He thought a moment, then nodded.  "She's a tough lady.  I think she'll be fine when the shit hits the fan."

Matt nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

By 2030 hours Shepherd had them all packed up and ready to go.  "Use your NVGs," he said, "it'll help in this uneven terrain."  He watched as Margo took her position in the regular marching order.  She was holding up well, but if they had to make a run for it he knew it could get real dicey, real quick.

They slowly hiked closer to the compound for almost an hour and were closing in when Shepherd called a halt.  He told himself that he did it so he could go to each of his people, checking them on their assignments and making sure the plan was clear to everyone, but he knew he'd really done it to give Margo a rest before the real work started.

Then they moved out again.  Less than twenty minutes later they all lay in the trees, staring into the compound.  Shepherd signaled C.J. to go and the man melted into the darkness.  Then he, Rico, Benny Ray and Margo moved up to within twenty yards of the fence and its lights to wait for C.J. to plant his charges.

An hour later, the Brit radioed that he was good to go.

Benny Ray had a H&K PSG1 silenced sniper rifle ready to take out the lights on both sides of the spot where Shepherd intended to cut the wire.  But first they had to wait for the jeep to reach their location.  Then they'd have a nearly a half-hour to get their work done.  He checked his watch.  They still had a little bit longer to wait.

At the same time as the night before, the chopper rose off the ground, slipping through the hole in the cammie netting and swinging off toward the village of Cacule.

"Maybe Senor Acosta has a senorita in the village," Benny Ray offered softly into his lip mike.

"Let's just hope she can hold his attention for a while tonight," Matt replied.  He was pleased to see the chopper leave.  With the bird out of the way they had a much better chance of reaching the LZ without being found.  He checked his watch again.  The jeep should reach them in less than two minutes, and it arrived right on time.  As soon as it was past, Shepherd said into his lip mike, "C.J., give us a count of thirty and start the show."

"Roger that, Major.  It'll be better than the bleedin' Fourth of July," was the immediate reply from the Brit.  "I only wish I had a band."

"Okay, people, let's go," Shepherd said, moving them to the fence as he silently counted from one to thirty.

A moment later, the first of the dull-sounding _karumphs_ of the diversionary explosions began erupting at the west end of the compound.  Alarms immediately sounded and men rushed out of several of the buildings, weapons in their hands.  The explosions continued at irregular intervals, some closer to the wire, some further away.  Strings of extra-loud firecrackers sounded like automatic weapons fire, adding to the confusion.

Shepherd touched Benny Ray's shoulder and the sniper fired through the fence at the first light.  His silenced round took it out and he turned slightly, taking out the second bulb with another single shot.  That done, Matt moved forward, using wire-cutters to open a slit about four feet.  As he worked, Margo, Rico, then Benny Ray slipped through the growing hole.  Finished, Shepherd himself eased through, then folded the flap back into place and secured it with a few thin wire-twists.

The four operators immediately spread out, moving toward the building they needed to secure.  As they moved, they watched more armed men, running west.  No one seemed to notice them, their attention focused in another direction.  The four stopped just outside the wash of the lights on the target building.

"Hold," Shepherd said into his mike.  He watched the building ahead of them intently until the door opened and two soldiers came out, one of them running off to the west, the other hesitating, then following.

"Damn, Major, you must be psychic," Rico said into his lip mike.

Matt grinned, motioning the other up to the wall of the building.  "Okay, we move on three."

Each member of the team knew exactly what their job was, and how to carry it out.  Matt and Rico would enter the building and secure the hostages.  Benny Ray and Margo would ensure their escape.

"One… two… three," Matt counted, moving as soon as the last was out of his mouth.

The two men stormed into the building, Shepherd taking the center to left-hand section.  He spotted two guards and fired a half-dozen silent rounds, dropping both.  Rico centered a second behind him, sweeping the center to right side of the building.  He saw two soldiers in the process of bringing up their guns.  He held the trigger back on the G-11 and splattered the two men with almost twenty rounds.  They fell without ever having fired a shot.

Shepherd rushed to the single desk that sat under the bare lightblub.  Grabbing the keys he found lying there, he bolted to the first cell and tried three keys before finding the one that opened the cell door.  The man inside was smiling.  "American?"

"As apple pie," Shepherd replied.  "Everyone okay?"

"I'm Captain Chaves.  One of my men's in pretty bad shape.  Internal injuries from the crash," the soldier said.

Matt tossed him the keys.  "Get the rest of these men free.  We'll cover you.  Rico, check the wounded."  He touched his lip mike.  "We have the packages.  We're coming out ASAP."

Hearing automatic-rifle fire outside, Shepherd moved to the doorframe.  He saw three men lying on the ground, and three more in uniforms, running toward the building. He pushed his MP-5 around the doorframe and sprayed the advancing guards with three triple-round bursts as Benny Ray and Margo fired as well.  The three men went down.

"Time to go," Rico's voice announced in Shepherd's ear a few seconds later.

Matt glanced behind him.  Rico and the five soldiers stood there, waiting.  A sixth hung over the largest man’s shoulders.  "Where's Medera?" he asked the captain.

Chaves pointed to a closed door.  "In there, last I saw."

"Rico," Shepherd said, nodding.

The medic bolted to the closed door, but found it locked.  He tested four keys before he found the one that opened it.  Inside, Rico found a young man standing in one corner, obviously frightened.  The room was luxurious compared to the cells the others had occupied, and it was clear that he hadn't been beaten.

"Medera?" Rico demanded, his eyes narrowing.

The young man nodded.

"Come with me.  Now."

"Major, we've got reinforcements startin' ta arrive," Benny Ray announced in Shepherd's ear.

"Time to go," Matt snapped.  "Stay close."

Rico repeated the order in Spanish, but the three Colombian Rangers had understood Matt perfectly.

Benny Ray laid down cover fire, allowing the others to move toward the fence.

Getting out of the compound was actually easier than Shepherd expected, the entire group slipping through the cut fence while Benny Ray and Rico provided cover.  Then Margo and Matt opened up from outside the fence while the two men slipped through as well.  They disappeared into the trees, then turned, firing at the handful of Acosta's men who dared to follow them.  Four fell and the rest stopped, then pulled back to the fenceline.

"Okay, let's move," Matt said, reaching into his pack and pulling out NVGs for the six mobile men.  "We've got a couple choppers to meet."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Jogging slowly through the jungle behind the freed hostages, Margo tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, but the constant burn in her lungs, and the increasing rebellion in her stomach was making that more and more difficult.  She stumbled for the fourth time and this time started to fall, but strong hands caught her, holding her on her feet.

She looked up and gave Benny Ray a grateful, if brief, smile.  "Thanks."

"You okay?" he asked.

Before she could answer, her stomach turned over and she dropped to her knees, throwing up what was left of the MRE and water she'd managed to force down earlier.  Long after the food was gone, her stomach continued to turn over, dry heaves racking her body in painful gripping waves.  Through it all Benny Ray knelt beside her, holding her hair out of her face and murmuring soft words of encouragement.

She coughed, fire searing through her lungs and causing more cold sweat to break out across her forehead.  And to add to her misery, an unrelenting ache settled into her muscles, burrowing into her bones.  "Help me up," she rasped softly.

Benny Ray slipped his arm under hers and helped her stand.  A chill shook her and he quickly stripped off his jacket, giving it back to her like he had the night before.  This time she didn't object, shrugging it on with his help.

"Come on," Benny Ray said, "we have ta catch up."

She nodded, grinding her teeth in determination as she started off again.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The group halted in the trees not far from the plowed field Shepherd had chosen as their primary landing zone, guided to the location by C.J., who had kept up an endless stream of meaningless chatter.  Matt checked each man again, finding two with minor injuries picked up during their escape.  He called Rico over to look them over.

Shepherd saved Margo for last.  She stood, bent slightly forward, her hands on her thighs, her breathing wheezy and fast.

"Hanging in there?" he asked, resting a supportive hand lightly on her shoulder.  Heat radiated through the cloth of her black fatigues.  She nodded, but he could see that her face was pale and damp with sweat.  A cough racked through her body and she groaned softly, her muscles shaking under his touch.

"Easy," he soothed, "Chance'll be here soon."

She nodded again.

Five minutes later they heard the distant sound of the approaching choppers.  Shepherd let them fly directly overhead at a hundred feet, making sure that it was Chance and his companion, and not the Huey from Acosta's compound.  When he was sure, he activated an infrared beacon and watched the two choppers swing back and drop down into the field.

"Let's go!" Shepherd said, leading the way toward their waiting ride.  Fifty yards short, he heard a low _whooshing_ sound that he knew was going to give him nightmares —an incoming rocket-propelled grenade.

Before he could yell for everyone to take cover, the first rocket, then a second struck one of the choppers.  The second popped into the sky and swung away just as the first burst into flames.  A moment later the fuel ignited and exploded and there was nothing left of the machine but fiercely burning pieces of metal and dead crewmen.

Benny Ray crouched and fired back at the location of the launch flash.  He was rewarded by a piercing scream.

"No!" Matt yelled into his lip mike, halting Rico and the other men who had started to scramble for the downed chopper.  "They're dead; we can't help them.  Let's go!"

Former hostages and team members rushed for the second chopper as it dropped down again, hanging just off the ground near the trees.  Matt reached the bird first, waving and barking, "Move!  Move!  Move!"

The two Americans and three Colombian Rangers scrambled on board, still carrying their wounded man.  Rico was right behind them.

"Come on!" Matt yelled at Medera, but the boy suddenly bolted to the left, charging into the trees, Margo and Benny Ray both immediately on his heels.

Another _whooshing_ sound announced the arrival another RPG.  Shepherd and C.J. threw themselves to the ground, the grenade exploding in the trees nearby.

Matt shot to his feet and pounded on the side of the helicopter, yelling, "Go!  Get out of here!"  He saw Chance behind the controls, and the black man nodded.  The chopper popped into the air and quickly sped away, wagging as it went to avoid any more RPGs.

"Come on," Shepherd said, slapping C.J. on the shoulder.  "Let's go find them."

"Acosta's men are going to be all over this jungle!" C.J. complained, right on the major's heels.

"We'll just have to stay one step ahead of 'em!" Matt replied, but he was already worrying about how they were going to manage that with Margo sick.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A half-hour later, Shepherd and C.J. came to an abrupt halt when they found Margo leaning heavily against a tree trunk.  Next to her Benny Ray stood, one fist wrapped in Medera's shirtfront, the other pulled back, ready to pop the kid right in the face.

"Benny Ray," Matt snapped.

The sniper cursed softly, but instead of hitting the boy, he shoved the Colombian hard, sending Medera falling roughly to the ground.

"Tie him up," Shepherd instructed C.J., then walked over to Margo, whose eyes were closed, each breath sounding wet and wheezy.  "Hey," he said, reaching out to give her shoulder a squeeze and noting that her fever was worse.

Margo's gray eyes blinked open, and even in the darkness Matt could see that they were slightly glassy from the fever.  "I'm ready," she said, pushing weakly away from the tree.

He pushed her back against it.  "Rest," he ordered.  Calling C.J. over when he was done with Medera, he instructed, "Get Chance on the SATCOM.  Let's set up another pickup using LZ Victor."  He fished into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook.  He flipped it open to the first page and handed it to the Brit.  On the paper were the GPS coordinates for the primary and two backup landing zones.

The Brit nodded.  "I'll have the taxi back in no time," he said as cheerfully as he could.  He flashed Margo an encouraging grin.

She nodded, but didn't have the energy to return the gesture.

Matt watched Benny Ray take charge of Medera when C.J. began unpacking the SATCOM unit, then turned back to Margo.  "Hey, you hangin' in there?"

She nodded.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, though not unkindly.  "You should've gotten on the bird, kiddo."

She looked up, meeting his concerned gaze.  "I didn't think," she admitted, "just reacted.  He bolted.  I went after him.  Simple as that.  Thought had very little to do with it."

Shepherd shook his head.  "You did the right thing… under normal circumstances."

"But this isn't a normal circumstances," she cut in.  "I know.  I'll admit it; I'm not thinking too clearly right now."

"That's okay," Matt said, giving her shoulder a gentle pat.  "I probably would've done the same thing."

"Damned right you would've," Margo countered, trying to sound firm.

Shepherd grinned.  "Well, just hang in there.  It won't be too much longer."

"Major," C.J. said, walking up to join them.  "We have a problem."

Shepherd cursed silently and glanced heavenward.  _Just once I'd like to catch a break when we really need it_ , he thought.  "What is it?" he asked.

C.J. glanced once at Margo, concern clear on his impish features.  "That injured soldier took a turn for the worse.  Chance has gotta get him to a medical facility ASAP.  He's guessing he won't be able to get back for us before first light."

"Then we're stuck here for another day," Matt sighed.

C.J. nodded.  "I'm afraid so.  But he said he'd be back as soon as it was good and dark."

"Lotta good that's gonna do her," Benny Ray added softly, nodding at Margo.

Matt sucked in a deep breath, then said, "Okay, there's nothing we can do.  We find someplace to hide and we wait."

Margo held up a hand, saying softly, "Listen."

The three men paused.  "Acosta's men," C.J. said softly.

Benny Ray nodded at Margo.  "She ain't gonna make it much further like this."

"I'll take Margo," Matt said, "you take point.  C.J., you keep an eye on Mr. Medera here.  Okay, let's go.  Ten yard intervals."  He turned to Margo, who shot him an annoyed look. 

"I can walk," she argued weakly.

"We need to move a little faster than that," Matt said.  "You're riding piggyback, and that's an order."

She briefly considered arguing, but another cough pulled at her lungs, trying to turn them inside out as she smothered the sound against her arm.  Looking up at Matt, she nodded.

"Hand your gear over to the other two," he ordered and she complied.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

For the next several hours they played a deadly game of hide and seek with the Colombian guerrillas.  As dawn approached a light drizzle began to fall, slowly soaking all of them.  Matt could feel Margo's fever building; the increasing heat where she lay, pressed against his back, was enough to make him sweat.  She had passed out, or fallen asleep, about an hour earlier, her rattling breaths making him increasingly nervous.

"Hold," Benny Ray said softly into Matt's ear receiver.

Shepherd stopped, listening intently for any sound that might tell them that Acosta's men had located them, but there was nothing.  A moment later he heard Benny Ray say, "Major, I found an old hut.  Looks deserted.  It ain't much, but it's dry."

"Roger that," Matt replied as the rain began to pick up, silently thanking the fates for a break they really needed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Abandoned hut, Colombian jungle**

**11 November**

**0600 Hours**

 

Medera watched as Matt slowly lowered Margo down onto the floor.  Her eyes opened and she blinked owlishly, looking around the abandoned hut.  The young man shook his head.  "Why did you bring a— a— weak woman?" he demanded his tone disgusted.

Matt straightened, and turned toward Medera, but before he could say anything, Margo rasped, "Because I'm twice the man you are."

Medera drew himself up, his expression the same as if he'd been slapped.  " _Puta_ ," he snarled, then spat at her.

C.J., standing closest to the Colombian, landed a powerful uppercut to the young man's chin.  Medera dropped heavily to the ground, unconscious.

Margo's eyes widened, but she looked up at C.J. and smiled thinly.  "Thank you."

"It was my distinct pleasure," he said with a smile, then scowled and shook his hand.  "Ow…"

Matt looked down at Margo.  "How're you feeling?"

She shrugged, saying weakly, "I'll probably live, but I doubt I'm going to enjoy it much."

He grinned.  "Try to drink some water.  You need to stay hydrated."

She grimaced at the thought of putting anything in her tender stomach, but she knew he was right.  Her hands trembled as she reached for the canteen hooked to her belt, then realized that she'd given all of her gear to Benny Ray and C.J.

"Here ya go," Benny Ray said, holding out a canteen.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the proffered container.  He'd already unthreaded the cap and she flashed him her thanks with a tired smile.

"Any time," he drawled in his soft southern accent.

"C.J., take first watch.  Out about fifteen to twenty yards," Matt instructed as he grabbed Medera's still unconscious body and dragged him to one corner of the room.

"But, Major, it's raining."

"Gee," Matt replied, as he began to tie Medera's hands and feet, "I didn't notice.  One of us will switch with you in three hours."

"Ain't like you're gonna melt," Benny Ray teased lightly.

C.J. shot the sniper a frown, then sighed heavily, picked up his MP-5 and headed outside.

Benny Ray sat down next to Margo, then reached out to check her fever.  "Damn, Margo, you're burnin' up."

She forced down a couple more swallows of water, then nodded.  "I feel like hell," she admitted, her eyes heavy with pain and exhaustion.

The sniper took the canteen and screwed the cap back on tight, then set it down beside him.  Without thinking, he slipped an arm around Margo's shoulders and hugged her close.

She snuggled against him, grateful for the warmth.  "I'll be okay," she said thickly, her eyes dropping closed.  "Just need a hot bath… few days sleep… maybe a shopping trip…"

"You damn well better be fine," Benny Ray replied softly.  "We've got a volleyball game next week and I don't plan on buyin' the other guys dinner."

"Kick butt," she muttered, resting her head on Benny Ray's shoulder.

He pulled her a little closer, then heard her breath slow as sleep overtook her.  He reached up and gently stroked her hair.

"She asleep?" Matt asked.

Benny Ray lifted his free hand and placed his index finger against his lips.

Matt nodded.  It was what she needed most.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**1900 Hours**

 

Margo struggled to consciousness.  She was aware of two things:  she was warm for the first time in a long time, and someone was moving around, trying not to make any noise.  She let her thoughts settle, then opened her eyes, taking in the scene.  Medera was tied up and gagged in the corner.  He glared at her, but she ignored him.  Matt was gone, and C.J. was tiptoeing across the single room, looking nervous.  She looked past the Brit at the door-less portal to the hut.  It was getting dark. She'd slept all day.

The sudden realization that she was nestled up against Benny Ray shot through her, making her blush.  _He must have sat here, holding me all day_ , she thought.  Her eyes closed.

 _Well, of course he did_ , she scolded herself.  _A Southern gentleman to the end_.

She opened her eyes again, trying to decide how to approach the sniper.

"Well, look at that, Sleeping Beauty's awake," C.J. said grinning, then he glowered at Benny Ray.  "You didn't kiss her, did you?"

Margo sighed softly and sat up.

Benny Ray's eyes widened.  "Well, good mornin'," he said, ignoring C.J.  "Well, evenin', any way."

She grinned sheepishly, then reached up and ran a hand over her hair.  "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Hey, stop right there," Benny Ray scolded her.  "How do you feel?"

Margo thought a moment, then shrugged.  "Better, I guess."

"You want something to eat?" C.J. asked.

She shook her head, watching as Benny Ray climbed slowly to his feet.  He took a step toward the door and nearly fell.  The Brit grabbed him, holding him on his feet until the feeling returned to his legs.  He grimaced and stomped his feet as the pins and needles sensation attacked him.  As soon that passed he hurried outside, hobbling as he went.

C.J. turned back to Margo, grinning.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, her mind too sluggish to try and decide for herself.

The Brit's grin widened.  "I think he has to, how do you Yanks say it?  Go water the—"

She held up a hand to stop him.  "I get the picture," she added, her cheeks going rosy.

A few minutes later, Matt stepped inside, looking hopeful.  "Hey, you feeling better?"

Margo nodded as she stood, using the wall for support.  He crossed to her, just in time to grab her shoulders as a deep, racking cough grabbed her chest in a fiery embrace.  Her knees buckled and Shepherd held her entire weight as she fought against the congestion.  She spat and Matt helped her ease back down to sit on the ground, her hand pressed tightly against her aching chest.

"Are you okay?" Matt demanded.

She nodded, then gasped, "Yeah… damn… that hurt."

"Easy," Matt said, glancing up nervously at C.J., who simply shrugged, not knowing what he could do to help.  "Margo," he added, "it's almost dark.  We need to get going."

She nodded and started to climb to her feet when another uncontrollable coughing fit doubled her over.  Matt waited until it passed, then quickly called Benny Ray in from where he was standing guard outside.  "We have to go, now, before they find us."

"You gonna carry her again?" the sniper asked.

Matt nodded.

They all quickly arranged their gear while Margo leaned back against the wall of the hut, her eyes closed and her face pinched.  Her weakness annoyed her, but there was little she could do about it.

When they were ready to move out, C.J. walked over and dragged Medera to his feet while Benny Ray helped Margo to hers, then helped her up onto Matt's back, piggyback fashion again.

"Okay," Matt said, shifting Margo slightly and silently marveling at how light she really was, "we head straight for the LZ.  Benny Ray, you're on point.  C.J., you and Medera are behind me."  He looked pointedly at the young man.  "And if he gives you any trouble, shoot him."

C.J. and Benny Ray nodded.  Without another word, they headed for the LZ and their ride home.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**2300 Hours**

 

Hidden in the trees that grew next to a plowed but unplanted field, Shepherd scanned the dark, star-bright skies for any sign of Chance.  He was late.

Glancing down at Margo, he found her sleeping again, or unconscious.  It was impossible to tell which.  Benny Ray was crouched next to her, guarding her with an MP-5 in his hands.  They hadn't heard or seen any of Acosta's men looking for them, but he knew they were out there.  Luckily it was a big jungle.

The distant but familiar wop-wop-wop of an approaching helicopter reached Shepherd's ears.  "Heads up, people," he said, "this might be it."

They all waited anxiously at the very edge of the trees.  The chopper drew closer, and finally passed over them.  C.J. pumped his fist into the air once, saying softly, "Yes!"

Matt grinned as he activated the infra-red beacon, shining it out of the trees. The chopper wagged, then swung around, and started to land, but the LZ suddenly turned hot.

"Acosta's men have found us!" Shepherd hissed as he turned back to find Margo on her feet.  "C.J., you and Medera in front, Benny—"

"Negative, Major," the sniper interrupted.  "You take Margo, I'll give ya all the cover ya need."

Shepherd didn't bother to argue.  Benny Ray was right, and he had an uncanny ability to take down targets, even those he couldn't see.

Chance angled the chopper closer to the trees where they waited, Acosta's men were still firing, but they weren't close enough to be a real threat – not yet.  But as soon as they reached the treeline, they'd have a direct bead on the chopper.

Benny Ray grabbed Medera's arm.  "You bolt again, I'll put a bullet in the middle of your back," he snarled, his tone as dangerous as the expression on his face.

Medera tried to look angry, but he was too afraid of the sniper to pull it off.

C.J. grabbed Medera's arm and they left the cover of the trees, sprinting for the waiting ride.  Matt wrapped an arm around Margo's waist, half-carrying, half-supporting her as they also dashed for their ride home.  Her legs pumped as hard as she could manage for several steps, then gave out on her.

Matt scooped her up into his arms and charged for the open hatch.

Benny Ray moved along slightly out in front of the foursome, firing a steady stream of three-round bursts into the trees where they were taking fire from.  In his peripheral vision he saw Rico reach out and pull Medera on board.  C.J. scrambled in next, then reappeared at the hatch, giving Matt and Margo additional cover fire.

A bullet whizzed past the sniper's ear, striking the chopper with a ping that rang loud in Benny Ray's ears.  He edged closer to the chopper, then knelt down, quickly changed clips and continued firing as Matt and Margo reached the chopper.

"Help me!" Shepherd bellowed.

Rico reached out and grabbed Margo, hauling her inside.

Matt dove through the open hatch, then scrambled back.  "Benny Ray!" he yelled.  "Come on!"

The sniper rose into a crouch, quickly working his way back to the waiting bird, still firing the entire way.  His back hit the chopper a moment before three pairs of hands grabbed him, pulling him inside.

"Chance, go!" Shepherd roared.

The chopper lurched into air and swung sharply away from Acosta's men, the skids raking through the treetops.  Releasing Benny Ray, Rico scrambled to Margo's side, beginning an examination of the unconscious woman.  "She's having a lot of trouble breathing!" he called out, then pointed.  "Hand me the oxygen!"

Closest to the box with the O2, C.J. grabbed it and shoved it over to Rico.

Matt scooted closer to the medic, watching him as he worked.

Benny Ray crawled forward and pulled two blankets from the supplies under one of the bench seats, carrying them over to Margo.  "Here," he said, handing one to Matt.

Together the two men bundled her up while Rico got the oxygen mask over her mouth.

Thirty minutes later they crossed into Peruvian airspace.

"How's she doing?" Matt asked.

Rico reached out, checking her fever, then her pulse.  "She's hanging in there, Major," he reported.  "I think she might have pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" Shepherd echoed.

Benny Ray shook his head.

"We'll know more once we get her to a hospital."

"A quiet weekend in the country," C.J. announced.

"What?" Benny Ray asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"A quiet weekend in the country," C.J. repeated.  "That's what we need.  You know, rest, relax—"

Matt interrupted the Brit.  "I think we all do!  Hell, Trout owes us that much!  As soon as she's up to it, we're all taking a vacation!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Ski Lodge Suite, Lake Tahoe, Nevada**

**20 November**

**0800 Hours**

 

Margo watched as "her guys" carried in two trays of food and hot drinks.  Benny Ray, with a tray of sliced fresh fruit, was shepherding C.J., who carried a tray over-laden with an assortment of sweet, gooey pastry.  Matt, Rico and Chance all carried two cups each of steaming gourmet coffee.  Her stomach growled in anticipation.

They set the food and drinks down on the large coffee table in the living room of the suite Trout was paying for.  Beyond the glass that took up nearly all of one wall, she could see the snow-covered Sierras, sparkling in the morning sunlight.  And on the mountainside she could see skiers and snowboarders making their morning runs down the slopes.  A large fireplace snapped nearby, and Margo sighed, enjoying the comfortable sofa and the feeling of peace that filled her.

Not only was she healing quickly, but the U.S. and Colombia were back on friendly terms.  Carlos Medera was in deep shit with his father, but at least the Minister knew the truth.

And after spending four days in the hospital, then three more in bed at the Silver Star, she was ready to get back to living again, if not to work right away.  And Lake Tahoe was a good place to start.  She planned to soak in the hot tub that sat on their enclosed patio, and watch the skiers, then she'd play some Blackjack in the hotel's casino, and maybe take in a show, if she didn't run out of energy too soon.

She grinned.  One thing she wouldn't have to worry about was eating.  Her boys were going far above and beyond the call to make sure she had plenty to eat.  They had to "fatten her up" as Benny Ray had so eloquently put it.  She shook her head, watching C.J. and Benny Ray argue about what should go on her plate.  _Well_ , she decided, he isn't too far wrong.  _I can't believe I lost twelve pounds_.

"I'll take two of those to start," she said, pointing to a glazed croissant, interrupting the argument.

C.J. transferred the two pastries and handed her the plate.

"Thank you," she said, then accepted a cup of coffee from Chance.

"So what do you want to do today?" Matt asked.

 _Okay, so having five mother hens might get a little old_ , she thought.  But for the moment she'd enjoy it.  "I was thinking a soak in the hot tub, a trip to the casino, a long, leisurely lunch, maybe a little more gambling, and dinner at one of the shows."

Five pairs of eyes widened slightly.

"Margo, you're supposed to be _resting_ ," Rico scolded.

She tried to look an innocent as possible as she replied, "That is resting.  Did you hear me say one thing about shopping?  I'll save that for tomorrow."

Her reply was a series of groans.

"I think she's feelin' better," Benny Ray said.

"Must be," C.J. concurred.  "Guess she won't be needing us hanging around."

"Getting in the way," Chance added.

"Yeah, we can be a real annoyance," Rico added.

"So, you wanna go, uh, check on the lift fees?" Benny Ray asked innocently.

Rico, Chance and C.J. nodded and they escaped with Benny Ray as quickly as they could.  Matt stayed behind, a small grin on his lips.  "You really know how to handle them, don't you?"

Margo took another bite of her pastry and followed it up with a sip of coffee.  "Who, me?" she asked.

"Yeah, you."

She shrugged.  "Look, I appreciate all the support, but I'm feeling much better.  I just need to build my strength up now.  And I think a little shopping trip tomorrow might be just what the doctor ordered."

Matt shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.  "Well, if you're sure you're up to it."

"Oh, I'm sure.  There's a couple of boutiques here that—"

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Matt interrupted, then glanced at the door.  "I, uh, think I better go make sure they don't get into any trouble," he said, edging toward the door.  "You know how they can get."

She nodded, looking vaguely concerned.  "Good idea," she added.

Matt reached the door and quickly disappeared.

She shook her head.  "Maybe it's genetic," she said aloud.  _Men usually hate shopping, and women usually love it.  And as long as this trip's on Trout, I think I'll pick up some new ski clothes_.

She finished her croissant and coffee, then stood and headed back to her bedroom for her bathing suit.  That soak in the hot tub was going to feel wonderful. And she'd have the whole thing to herself.  She grinned and decided to forego the bathing suit.

The End


End file.
